


The Bear and the Wolf

by Jedi_Olympian



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Banter, Bonding, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Canon, Robb Stark is a Gift, Romance, Sparring, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26412853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jedi_Olympian/pseuds/Jedi_Olympian
Summary: Cressa Mormont, daughter of Lady Maege Mormont, struggles to do her duty as her mother's child. Her heart yearns for one thing while her brain pleads for another. That is until she meets the young wolf of Winterfell. But who couldn't fall for Robb Stark's smile?
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Robb Stark/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	The Bear and the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FFN. Takes place before the events of the books/show and mostly follows the book canon in regards to ages, customs, and the Mormont family but I'll never not imagine Richard Madden as Robb Stark because he's amazing. I only own my OC Cressa. Age difference of two years. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Check out my Instagram to keep up to date with what I'm working on!

~ Bear Island ~

Thundering hooves trampled the forest floor as a girl raced through on horseback. The midday sun glittered through the canopy, lighting the green of the brush and the green of the woman's dress. Animals ran from the carefree girl. Her long dark braid whipped in the wind, tied back as it should be. Lady Cressa guided her steed towards the front gate guarding the keep of House Mormont. 

Musical laughter echoed through the trees as she glanced behind her. "You're losing!" she yelled.

"Not for long!" another girl called back, trying to catch up with her older sister. Lady Lyra ordered her horse to pick up speed, but Song was no match for Spirit. Lyra, barely behind her sister, lost as Cressa reached the front gate before she did. The wooden gate loomed over them, intricately carved to show a warrior woman adorned in a bearskin, brandishing a battle-axe in one hand while nursing a babe in the other.

The carving always reminded Cressa of her little sister Lyanna, the youngest of the Mormont girls. Her favorite weapon was the battle-axe and she could wield it expertly despite her young age. The hard part would be getting her to want to have children, but if she did, Cressa knew Lyanna would gladly breastfeed her child while holding her axe.

Both girls, out of breath along with the horses, laughed as they playfully glared at each other. "How does it feel to lose again, dear sister?" Cressa asked, her blue-green eyes sparkling as she patted her horse's neck. His sleek black fur coated in a light pasting of dirt and spots of mud. She made a mental note to brush him later in the day.

Lyra huffed atop of her own golden-brown mare as the horses circled each other. "It's not fair. Spirit is the fastest horse we have and you're always riding him."

"Aye, that's because he's my horse." Cressa's right eyebrow raised as her sixteen-year-old sister rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you took Song out riding more often, she'd be faster, hm?"

"Oh, shut up."

The older girl laughed again as the gate opened, allowing the girls into the city. The guards always waited for the squabbles to cease before opening the gate. The two had a habit of bantering for too long. "Come on, I want to know why mama sent a boy to call us back." Said boy had been left behind in the woods during the race between the sisters. Messengers were used to it though.

Together the two girls trotted through the streets towards the main keep. It was the largest building on the island, built with a mixture of logs and stone. The green and black house banner of a passant bear was displayed proudly on either side of the front door. If war ever came, they would be replaced with a rampant bear. Calm until angered.

Cressa and Lyra returned their horses to the stable before entering the hall. Lady Maege Mormont, the head of House Mormont, sat in her high seat at the head table with her advisors, Maester Balder and Captain Asger, the leader of the guard.

At the sound of her daughters entering, Lady Mormont raised her head from the parchment she was writing on. With a small smile on her face, she dismissed her advisors and stood from her seat. "My darling daughters," she greeted loudly. "I trust you had a fun day in the forest?"

Cressa and Lyra walked through the room towards their mother. "It wasn't so much of a day since you called us back early," Cressa said in response, no malice or harshness present.

Maege laughed heartily at her daughter's wit as she went around the table to be in front of her third-born. "I suppose that's true." She then turned to Lyra, her fourth-born. "Give us a moment, will you? You can have her back soon, I promise."

"Of course, mama." Lyra looked at her older sister. "I'll be training."

Cressa nodded at her before turning back to their mother with a questioning gaze. The sound of the heavy front doors opening and closing signaled Cressa to finally speak. "What's this about, mama? The last time you called us back early, there was a storm coming in that we hadn't noticed through the trees. There isn't one this time and you never send Lyra away. Is something wrong?"

Maege's beaming grin lessened, turning almost sad instead of large and gleeful. "The time has come for you to meet another potential husband."

Cressa's expression dropped. "Mother, I thought you gave up on that?"

"Just because it's been a year since your last suitor, doesn't mean I've given up finding you a suitable prospect."

"Mother-" Cressa tried to argue.

Maege raised a hand to cut her off. "No." Lady Mormont was like a mountain in her resolve. Unmovable. "The Starks of Winterfell have agreed to let you meet their son, Robb. We set out for Winterfell in two days, so gather your things."

Cressa was about to protest but her mother's stern gaze made her rethink her words. The young lady of eighteen sighed. "Can I at least bring Spirit?'

"What kind of monster would I be if I didn't let you bring your only friend?" While Maege sounded completely serious, the sparkle in her eyes always tipped Cressa off that her mother was being funny.

Curled strands of hair, loose from the tight braid, waved back and forth as Cressa shook her head, trying not to smile. "You're not funny."

After a clap on the shoulder, Maege smiled broadly at her daughter. "You know I am. You get your humor from me." The mama bear pointed at the double-doors. "Go on, spar with your sister. You might not see her for a while."

"Wait, who's all going?"

"Just me and you, bear cub. Well, and a few guards. Not that we'd need them."

* * *

~ Winterfell ~

Sore knuckles rapped at the wooden door of Lord and Lady Stark's quarters. Robb Stark, their eldest son and heir to Winterfell, stood just outside, wringing his hands. They had told a servant to fetch him for them which usually meant something was wrong. Only sixteen, the auburn-haired boy tried his hardest to make his parents proud in everything he did. The only thing he had ever disappointed them on was his close relationship with his half-brother Jon, but it was only frowned upon by his mother, not his father.

The large door swung open to reveal Robb's mother, Lady Catelyn Stark of House Tully. She greeted her son with a kind smile and ushered him inside. "Come in, come in," she said quickly, waving her hand.

Robb stepped inside and Catelyn closed the door behind him. "You sent for me?" the boy asked.

Catelyn placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, glancing between him and her husband, Lord Eddard Stark, who sat at his desk and faced the two. "Yes, we wanted to talk to you about something, son."

Eddard, or Ned as he preferred, sighed and got straight to the point. There was no point in beating around the bush are starting with formalities. "Your mother and I have decided to accept a proposal for you."

"What?" Robb's face scrunched up. It was the first instance of actually discussing potential wives for him that he could remember. Growing up, he was told by Maester Luwin and his parents that he would have to marry and have children to carry on the Stark name, but no one ever mentioned when or with who.

Catelyn tried to start explaining. "Robb-"

Her son cut her off before she could continue. "I'm getting married?" he questioned, his voice stern, and his gaze narrowed.

"You are my eldest and my heir," Ned stated simply. "You knew you would have to be married at one point or another."

Robb's shoulders sagged as he gently shook his head. "I just didn't think it'd be today." It wasn't ideal for him nor his parents.

Ned stood from his seat and walked towards his son and wife. "The Mormont's are a proud house and an old family. While we have had strained relations in recent years because of the exiled Ser Jorah Mormont, Lady Maege Mormont wishes to put it behind us and wants to show her support of our house by strengthening her allegiance and fealty."

The explanation didn't ease young Robb's frustrations. The grin on his face lacked heart. "By marrying off one of countless daughters?"

"I was honestly surprised." Ned folded his arms over his chest as he confessed his thoughts to his son. "The Mormont's have always been reserved. Not ones to step their foot into anything ambitious except war. They're usually happy on their island, keeping to themselves."

"Lady Mormont has her daughter's best interest at heart, I'm sure," Catelyn argued, looking pointedly at her husband who wasn't helping and not wanting her son to think it would be anything less than a meaningful, thought-out decision. "They will be arriving in a few weeks so you and her daughter, Cressa, can meet. From there, we will decide whether or not you two will marry."

The added information simply made Robb confused. "What?"

Ned chuckled lightly. "Lady Mormont wants her daughter to be in a happy marriage with someone she can learn to love, not married off to some random person she's never met on the other side of Westeros. I find that admirable. If you two get along and she takes a liking to Winterfell, you and Lady Cressa will be wed after your next nameday." It was a fair timeframe. They had nearly half a year to get to know each other. Ned and Catelyn found it strange that Lady Mormont had requested a decent amount of time for their children to become friends, but the Starks decided it best not to question the bears and offered for until Robb's nameday despite Lady Mormont only hoping for a month at most. That way Robb could get used to the idea of marrying a woman on more than just the most basic of levels from Maester Luwin and his parents.

If Ned and Catelyn hadn't known about the failed betrothals to some of his other bannermen, they would have been even more confused. While Catelyn had initially been hesitant to accept Maege's offer due to the reasons for Cressa not getting married that she had heard from others, Ned assured his wife that Cressa was likely similar to her mother, which would make it difficult for anyone to want to marry the girl. The Mormont's were also plainly known as headstrong and willful, and most didn't realize just how much until they met them.

Catelyn's motherly smile helped put Robb's nerves at ease, if only slightly. "It's better than what it could be, my son."

He knew it could be worse. It didn't mean he was going to be happy about it. Robb knew very little about the bears as he was a wolf himself. In nature, wolves occasionally hunted bears. He hoped that he and Cressa could get along for his parents' sake.

If Lord and Lady Stark thought it would be a good match, who was Robb to judge otherwise? Probably sane.

The Mormont's were almost as stubborn as the Starks. The only thing that would prevent conflict between a bear and a wolf would be the same goal. But it was marriage. How was that a shared goal? Robb feared there would be more conflict between him and the young Lady Mormont than originally thought. Who knew for certain, though? Only the Gods could tell. Until then, Robb would remain open.

Ned's shoulders relaxed as his son nodded. "If she's anything like her mother or uncle, she'll make a good wife for you, Robb."

* * *

~ Bear Island ~

Metal clanged against metal as Lyra swung the dull training longsword at the squire who parried. Cressa, after leaving her mother in the main hall, followed the sound of metal clashing and curses flowing and found her sister in the training yard.

Cressa leaned against one of the wooden posts near the rack of training weapons. Her brown boots dug into the soft dirt as she watched Lyra spar with the squire. Anywhere else in Westeros would have had a man with a damaged ego if pitted against any of the daughters of Lady Mormont, but not Bear Island. The island was one of the few places in the known world where women were treated equally to men on and off the battlefield. If Bear Island was like the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, Lady Mormont wouldn't be in charge of her house nor the island. The privilege would have passed to the next male heir which would have been a distant cousin. But alas, after the exile of Ser Jorah Mormont and with his father being the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, the heir was Maege Mormont.

She did a damn fine job, too.

After Lady Mormont, her eldest Dacey would inherit the land, but Cressa wasn't heart-broken. All she wanted was to run through the woods on horseback, free of any duty, armed with nothing but her bow, arrows, knife, and dagger. She thought she would get her wish when she thought her mother was no longer trying to find her a decent husband, but she should've known better. Dacey had a husband. Alysane had children but no husband, meaning no normal man in Westeros would want her hand in marriage. Cressa was next.

Maege had thought of Houses Cerwyn, Glover, Bolton, Reed, Hornwood, Karstark, Umber, and Forrester, but all potential suitors were either deemed unsuitable by Lady Mormont herself or chased away by Cressa. She was too headstrong or too into weaponry or not enough of a proper lady, all interpretations were fine with Cressa. 

House Stark was a new one. They were known to be the most tenacious house of the North. The most respected as well. Cressa would have to tread lightly when attempting to find a way out of marriage to their eldest, but she doubted she even could. She didn't want to jeopardize House Mormont's standing with the Warden of the North. At least the son's name didn't make her want to hurl.

Robb Stark. Named after King Robert Baratheon, Lord Eddard Stark's closest friend. If Robb was anything like his father, he would at least be tolerable. Not that Cressa had ever met Lord Stark, only stories from her maester and mother. Each story, whether true or not, gave her a healthy respect for the man.

The young girl idly played with her long braid as she thought of leaving Bear Island. She hadn't left the island before. Every other suitor had come to her. A budding sense of excitement pooled at the pit of her stomach. She had always wanted to see other lands, and now she was going to travel to Winterfell. Although she didn't like the reason for traveling, Cressa would be damned if that was going to put a damper on her fun.

"Cressa!" Lyra called out, causing her sister to jump, being jolted out of her long thought trail. Lyra's wide grin was infectious as Cressa immediately smiled back. "Come on, let's spar!" The younger sister's haphazard waving of the dull sword urged Cressa to kick off from the support beam to grab a training sword.

Cressa could reveal the news when they were done. She didn't know whether Lyra would be happy or sad or a mixture of both. For that moment, Cressa simply wanted to have fun with her sister before she might never see her again.

* * *

~ Winterfell ~

"There he is!"

The loud exclamation drew Robb's attention away from the training dummy. Robb lowered the dull sword and snapped his head towards the speaker. Theon Greyjoy, a ward of Lord Stark, stood nearby with his arms held wide and a shit-eating grin on his face. The low sun did very little to make him seem anything other than creepy. Next to him was the ever-quiet Jon Snow, Robb's half-brother and bastard son of Ned. Robb sighed, stabbing the sword into the dirt and leaning on it.

"What do you want?" he asked, too tired and frustrated to be polite.

The bastard and the ward marched over to their friend, Theon looking incredibly pleased and Jon looking sympathetic. "We just heard the news!" Theon declared. "I'm very disappointed that you didn't come to tell us straight away. I thought we were friends."

"I'm not in the mood, Theon," Robb muttered, his gaze on the edge of becoming a glare.

A small scoff only added to the Greyjoy's grin. "You're getting married. You're supposed to be happy."

Robb rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up." He plucked the sword from the ground and faced the practice dummy again with a swing.

Jon provided better words than Theon, as usual. "At least you're getting to meet her first," he pointed out. "You can get to know her. See if you'll be a good match."

"I doubt there are any good matches when it comes to a bear," Theon stated sharply before his voice took a lighter tone. "But Jon's got a point. You can, er, get to know her."

Both Robb and Jon shook their heads in disgust and rolled their eyes. Theon only ever had one thing on his mind and that was sex. With how often he visited Ros at the brothel in Winter Town, one might think he'd be fairly satisfied but that wasn't the case.

"Robb's too honorable for that, unlike you." Jon's jab caused Theon to glare at him.

"At least I can get women, unlike you," Theon mocked.

"Cut it out, you two." They stopped glaring at each other and looked to Robb who dropped his sword arm. Silence fell between the three friends, but it wasn't awkward, simply sorrowful. With the prospect of marriage, their childhood was officially coming to an end.

Robb had thought that he at least had another year or two before being wed, but that was no longer the case. His fate now laid with a maiden that he hadn't met who would decide whether or not he was worthy of her. Of course he was worthy of her. He was the son of a lord and heir to Winterfell and a random middle child of House Mormont had more say in his marriage than he did. It made him angry, but he knew he shouldn't have been. It probably wasn't her choice any more than it was his. She was more than likely being forced into it just as much as he was. The choice was likely down to her mother, Lady Mormont, rather than her. He knew he shouldn't hold it against her but make the most out of the situation instead.

* * *

~ Winterfell ~ 3 weeks later ~

The Starks sat in their hall, supper prepared and served; however, no one was in a jolly mood. Ned Stark stared down at his plate in worry as everyone else gathered in the hall fed off his energy, not as hungry as he previously was.

"They'll be here soon," Catelyn tried to reassure, running her thumb over her husband's hand.

The younger Stark children were unsure of why their father was in a poor mood as they were not privy to such information, while Robb, Jon, and Theon were all aware. The Mormont's were supposed to arrive in Winterfell four days prior. It wasn't like them to run late.

Supper continued without issue and slowly the hall emptied until only the elder Starks, Rodrick Cassel, and Maester Luwin remained. The children had long retired, but as long as Robb, Jon, and Theon were aware of and prepared for their early morning lessons, they could stay up as long as they desired.

Theon and Robb laughs died away as the doors to the hall opened and in ran one of the guardsmen. "Lord Stark, the Mormont envoy just arrived," he announced, out of breath from running and drenched in water from the rain.

"Send them in," Ned ordered, rising from his chair. He trudged around the head table and gestured for the others to follow in order to formally welcome Lady Mormont. What remained of the already small group from Bear Island were ushered inside and out of the downpour. Ned's eyes widened at the group of four that walked through the doors.

"Maege, what happened?"

Lady Mormont threw back her hood and grasped Ned's forearm in greeting. "We were attacked by wildlings," she revealed. "Slowed us down quite a bit. The storm didn't help."

"How many did you lose?" Ned asked.

"Three, my lord. And a horse."

Ned nodded solemnly. "In the morning, we'll make arrangements for their bodies and belongings to be returned to Bear Island. In the meantime, I'm sure you all can use a hot meal and dry blankets." The Warden of the North looked at one of the servants that remained in the hall. "Tell the kitchen staff we'll be needing some more plates and make sure their things are brought to their rooms."

"Yes, milord." The servant then scurried off.

Ned then scanned the group. Two men and a woman, but the woman didn't look nearly young enough to be Maege's daughter. "Don't tell me your daughter was lost as well."

Maege's eyes furrowed as she laughed. "Of course not. It takes more than a few wildlings to off a Mormont." She then turned to those who stood behind her, only counting the three guards. Her face dropped at the sight. "Where's my daughter? Where's Cressa?"

All three looked behind them, baffled. Cressa had been behind them on the walk through the courtyard. The guard closest to the door opened it, revealing the third daughter of Lady Mormont still standing in the rain just outside the doors, staring up at the dreary sky without her hood on.

At the sound of the door opening, Cressa spun around and smiled sheepishly. The guard guided her inside and closed the hall door once again. "There she is," Maege said quietly, not surprised that her daughter hadn't been where she was supposed to be.

Ned was more amused than anything but resisted the strong urge to laugh at Lady Mormont's exasperated expression. She'll get along well here, he thought, already thinking about his daughter Arya.

Cressa absolutely hated dresses since they weren't good for riding, but that's what her mother had made her change into before they made it to Winterfell. A good first impression. Yeah, right. At least she still had on her bear cloak. In her dress, she felt naked as the welcoming party stared at her. To be fair, they were probably staring at her because she was drenched in rainwater, but that didn't help calm her mind.

Maege cleared her throat and placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "May I present my daughter, Cressa."

Not forgetting her manners, Cressa curtsied at Ned, braided hair still dripping. "Thank you for welcoming us to Winterfell, my lord," she said without any heart. "It is an honor to meet you."

Ned didn't miss the lack of enthusiasm in her polite words. She didn't want to be there, he could tell. He was familiar with the look. It was the same one in Catelyn's eyes when they had wed. It was the same one in his late sister Lyanna's eyes whenever she had seen his friend Robert, the current king. "I hope you enjoy your stay." He then looked at his wife. "This is my wife, Catelyn." The Tully woman's kind smile didn't help Cressa's mood, but it didn't worsen it either. "And this is my eldest, Robb."

With Ned's gesture, Robb stepped forward to his father's side, away from the other two boys. Cressa didn't get the chance to look closely at the others. As was customary, Cressa reluctantly held her hand out so Robb could bow and kiss the back of it. "Welcome to Winterfell, my lady," he said as he straightened. His deep voice was soft as his blue eyes studied her. How she hated to be called 'my lady,' but it strangely sounded pleasant in his voice.

Rain droplets sat on her dark eyelashes and long hair. Her green dress brought out the green impurities in her blue eyes. He thought his sisters were pale, but she had them beat. She held herself with more confidence than many of the noble-born women he had met before like she knew exactly what she was capable of. Robb couldn't help but wonder if she had been the one to slay the bear her cloak was made from.

Cressa didn't want to admit it to herself, but she found the young wolf to be attractive. Tall and broad-shouldered with curly, dark-auburn, Tully hair. If she had to choose a suitor to run away from, it couldn't get much better than Robb Stark.

* * *

The following morning, after everyone had settled in, Cressa woke up early with the rising sun. The castle was too hot for Cressa's liking, having been built on hot springs, so she had kept the windows in her room open all night. While most of the North had grown used to the cold, the Starks were in their heated castle. It paid to be strategic with the placement of northern strongholds. There were no such hot springs on Bear Island, though.

The rain had passed overnight. Cressa found that she was glad for it to be gone, despite her overall love of it. It meant she could go out riding if she remembered where the stables were. And if her mother didn't catch her first. All she had to do was make it out of the castle, to the stables, and then out of the gates.

Cressa dressed in her riding pants and boots, threw on her cloak, strapped her quiver around her waist, and grabbed her bow before rushing out the door, quickly and quietly making her way through the halls. The servants paid her no mind as she scurried passed. They didn't care about a random girl walking quickly down the stairs with a bow. They had seen the youngest Stark girl run by with a bow plenty of times or simply running from the Septa.

As Cressa turned a sharp corner, she ran face-first into a wall of fur. Yelping, she jumped back as Robb Stark turned around in surprise. She wanted to curse aloud, but held her tongue and instead stayed passive. "I apologize, my lord. I did not see you," she explained.

Robb flashed her a stunning smile. "It's alright. No harm done. But, uh, where are you running off to in such a hurry, if I may ask?" he asked.

"And with a bow?" Theon asked from Robb's side, eyeing the carved bow in her left hand.

Cressa bristled at the son of a rebel speaking to her. "Riding, and I don't go riding without my bow." She didn't believe it when she had first heard of it: Ned Stark raising the son of Lord Balon Greyjoy alongside his children. It was unthinkable. Granted, she also didn't believe that he was also raising his bastard as well. It was less strange for one of the Starks' bannerman, like Roose Bolton, to do so than Ned himself. The bastard, however, seemed to be missing at the moment.

"Well, I don't know what it's like on Bear Island, but usually women are escorted once they go beyond the gates," Theon pointed out in a condescending tone as he stared down at her.

Cressa's jaw clenched as she scowled up at him. She didn't get the chance to retort as Robb cut in. "Theon," he quietly scolded, sending the ward a curt glare, mildly surprising Cressa. He then looked back at Cressa with a softer gaze than he gave his friend. "The woods can be dangerous with the wildlings about. Please, allow me to escort you."

"Maester Luwin-"

Robb cut Theon off before he could continue. "Maester Luwin will understand. After having a whole island to explore, I'm sure a castle feels stuffy. We won't be terribly long." Robb held his arm out for Cressa to take. "My lady."

Barely sparing a glance at Theon, Cressa rested her hand on Robb's forearm, allowing him to lead her straight to where she yearned to go. They left the presence of the Greyjoy.

The interaction shocked the young lady. She hadn't expected to be stood up for by Ned's son, rather only expecting the treatment that Theon had attempted.

Soon they were outside. Despite the sun, it was still cold. The wind nipped at Cressa's cheeks as they made their way to the stables.

"I'm sorry about Theon," Robb said, breaking the silence. "He can be. . . challenging to get along with."

Unsure of how to respond, Cressa nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Please, my lady." Robb chuckled lightly. "Call me Robb. I'm not Lord yet."

Her eyes glittered up at him, not quite sure what to make of the boy. "Only if you call me Cressa." The corners of his mouth perked up in response.

The two saddled up. Cressa fed off of Spirit's excitement as he trotted in place after she climbed onto his back. Laughing and patting his neck, she followed Robb and his horse down the path. They were followed by two members of the Stark's household guard. They wouldn't have been allowed to leave without some manpower, and Cressa was not going to have her own household guard join them. Whoever remained would have informed her mother if they knew.

Only one thought sat in Cressa's mind besides riding in the woods: her mother wouldn't be able to complain too much since not only was Cressa accompanied by guards, but she was also in the company of Robb. It's what she wanted right? For her daughter to get to know Lord Stark's heir?

The familiar feel of horseback in the open forest helped Cressa relax as she and Robb rode along the trail. The guards stayed a healthy distance away in order to not intrude on the two.

Cressa took a deep breath as she stared up at the sky through the canopy. Her shoulders relaxed as she let Spirit walk aimlessly through the forest next to Robb's horse. Her cloak helped fight the chill of the wind.

"So, you're a Mormont," Robb said awkwardly, trying to start a conversation. He silently berated himself at the stupid statement. He simply spoke without thinking.

The young Mormont girl side-eyed him. "Excellent observation."

"No, I--" Robb cut himself off, chuckling. "That was a ridiculous start."

"Your words, not mine." Cressa smirked lightly, digging her heels in to urge Spirit to trot ahead of the Stark. "Keep up, will you? I don't wanna get lost."

Laughing, Robb kept up an even pace. "I'm certain you'd fair well without me."

Cressa glances over at the Stark boy. "You sure know how to flatter a lady, but it's not going to work."

"But is it flattery if I mean it?" Robb asked.

"The sincerest form."

The two chatted lively as the horses slowed back to a walk. The girl found that talking to him was easy, simple, and mildly pleasant, but it was suffocated by an air of urgency and tension. They were expected to be betrothed and to marry. It wasn't either fault of theirs, but they felt the pressure.

* * *

Later in the day, after a disapproving look from Lady Mormont, Cressa wandered around the Winterfell Keep. Robb, to make it up to Maester Luwin, had to stay longer for his lessons after all the other Stark children finished theirs, which left Cressa alone and bored without her guide. She made her way to the training yard, only to find the bastard of Winterfell who seemed to disappear every time she drew near.

Jon Snow, in all his curly-haired glory, slashed and jabbed the training sword at the practice dummy, unaware of the girl who entered his vicinity. She had to admit he was fairly good, at least from what she could garner from him using a training dummy.

Cressa leaned on one of the wooden posts of the training yard by the rack of training swords and watched for a few more moments before speaking. "So, you're the bastard?"

Startled by the voice, Jon whipped his head around, spotted Cressa resting against the post behind him, and frowned. "And you're the little bear cub?"

Cressa laughed. "The wolf bites back, though the insult could use some work."

Raising an eyebrow, the bastard dug the training sword into the dirt and leaned on it. "Not everyone has all the time in the world to think up witty comments."

"No," Cressa agreed, tilting her head to the side. "But not everyone is so fond of their lot in life to not want to do so."

She didn't think it possible, but Cressa swore his frown grew deeper but less in displeasure or discomfort and more in confusion. "Do you mean you don't want to be here?" Jon asked. "Here in Winterfell?"

Instead of directly answering, Cressa worked around it. "Don't get me wrong, your brother seems like a decent man and would be a suitable husband. Just not for me."

"My lady, the only person more honorable than Robb is our father." That was incredibly high praise, and not what she expected to hear. Usually, bastards were more cynical about their family due to not being treated equally, but if Jon thought so highly of his brother, neither boy seemed too bad.

"Why don't you marry him then?" Cressa raised an eyebrow with a teasing grin. "The Targaryens used to marry their siblings." She gave him a sly wink and his cheeks reddened, whether with embarrassment or anger, she couldn't tell. "You misunderstand me, Jon Snow. Your brother is kind and handsome and endearing. I've simply never been interested in being tied down to one place. I'd rather be in the forest with nothing but my horse and what I can carry on my back."

Jon shifted his footing as he studied the Mormont girl. "Sounds lonely."

"So does being a bastard." His curious gaze turned into a glare. Cressa rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that. It's not your fault your father was unfaithful. But it does beg the question as to why he brought you here to raise you with his trueborn children instead of leaving you with your mother. You're not curious?"

"Lord Stark doesn't like to talk about my mother."

Cressa hummed to herself and looked around her, at the training dummy and the training sword rack. "Curious."

Jon bristled, folded his arms over his chest, and asked, "Why do you care?"

The girl turned her eyes back to the boy of sixteen. "I want to know more about House Stark." She also liked riling him up.

If she didn't baffle him before, Cressa opened a new page in Jon's confusion. "You said you don't want to marry Robb, so why bother? If you want to know more about us, pick up a history book."

Smirking, Cressa reached out to the training swords next to her, fingering the hilt of the closest one. "That's boring."

"So is your constant questioning, my lady."

Her smirk only grew as she took off her cloak and set it over a railing. "Very touchy. Spar with me." Cressa picked up the training sword and held it, turning back to Jon and stepping forward.

Jon's eyes bugged out of his head. "What?"

Cressa sighed and repeated, "Spar with me."

Jon warily glanced at the dull sword in her hand. "I don't think that's a good idea, my lady."

"I wasn't asking." Cressa hefted the sword up and swung at Jon who parried with less grace than he probably could have if he had been prepared for her surprise strike. Cressa continued to try and break through Jon's defenses with her choppy movement while Jon remained swift.

"Since you're done asking your questions, I'm going to ask a few of my own," Jon said as he easily blocked one of her attacks.

Cressa dodged his sword. "Don't see how I can stop you, so alright." It was only fair. She had pestered him. But she had mostly just wanted to bug him.

 _Clang!_ "Is it true that all of House Mormont are skinchangers?"

Cressa's eyebrows pinched as she quickened her movements. "What makes you think that?" _Ching!_

"Just a rumor, my lady." Jon sidestepped her sword, causing Cressa to almost fall, but she caught herself.

"Stop calling me that," she ordered, her clipped, short tone accentuated by her clenched jaw.

 _Clank!_ "Why, my lady?"

Cressa spun around and pointed her sword at Jon. "I'll slice your pretty face off and eat it for breakfast, that's why."

Corners of his mouth lifting slightly as he looked at her, Jon said, "That's not very lady-like."

Cressa swung her sword again. Clang! "Says the one with long, flowing locks."

The two stared at each other, swords locked together. "Do you really think I'm pretty?"

Jaw twitching, Cressa said, "You won't be for long." The swords slid apart, the scraping sound reverberating in the air.

Jon tilted his head side to side and shrugged his shoulders. "But you do think I'm pretty."

"If you swung your sword as much as you talk, then maybe--" Cressa's retort ended as she landed on her back, breathless and covered in mud.

The bastard of Winterfell stared down at her and dug his sword into the ground, ever stoic. "I'm sorry, my lady. What were you saying? You were interrupted." She could see the amusement swirling in his eyes.

Cressa's eyes narrowed at him from her place on the wet ground. Despite her position and predicament, she couldn't help but be amused and entertained. "Has anyone ever told you you're infuriating?"

"Seven Hells, I thought that was a secret." Jon held out his gloved hand for her to take. Cressa contemplated slapping it away, but she slid her hand into his, letting him help pick her up.

Once upright, she straightened her clothes, trying to ignore the cold seeping into her back from the mud. "Thank you."

He nodded with a slight begrudging respect for the Mormont. "Perhaps if you practiced your swordplay as much as your wordplay, you wouldn't have fallen."

Jon said it so quickly without thinking, he started to regret saying it at all, at least until she started laughing. Her infectious laugh brought him into a small chuckle as well.

"You're not so bad, Jon Snow."

The more she learned about Winterfell and its occupants, the more interested she became.

* * *

Cressa inched through the keep to make it to her room without her mother noticing. Her backside was caked in a thin layer of drying mud, but at least she wasn't dripping or flaking it everywhere. Lady Mormont wasn't in the main hall nor in the immediately surrounding hallways, so Cressa thought she successfully avoided seeing her mother while absolutely filthy.

She was wrong.

Two halls away from the bedroom she was given for their stay, Cressa found her mother and Lord Stark chatting lively. Cressa froze as she entered the passageway. Upon seeing the young girl, the lord and lady smiled.

"Cressa, there you are," Maege sighed. "You ran off so quickly earlier."

"Here I am," Cressa replied quietly with an uncomfortable grin, folding her arms behind her back in an attempt to hide her mud-soaked arms. She prayed to the Old Gods that neither her mother nor Ned spotted the mud in her hair. At least she had dark hair to match the mud.

Ned offered her a kind smile. "How are you liking Winterfell so far? Robb said you two went riding this morning." And a wonderful time they had.

Cressa nodded. "It's excellent, very excellent. He's very kind. Now, if you don't mind, my lord, mother, I-"

"I know that look," Maege interrupted frowning while studying her daughter. She knew each of her daughters, especially their guilty expressions, like the back of her hand. "What are you hiding?"

The young Mormont tried to control her eyes to keep them from noticeably widening. "What? I'm not, I'm not hiding anything."

Her mother didn't believe her. Based on the look clouding Lord Stark's expression, he didn't believe her either. He was simply more polite about it as she was not his daughter.

"Show me your hands," Lady Mormont ordered. Cressa bowed her head sheepishly and brought her arms out from behind her, letting her mother see the dried mud. Maege sighed. "What happened?"

"I was sparring." Cressa hit the toe of her boot against the stone floor a few times. "And I fell."

Maege looked her over for a moment. "Longsword?" Cressa nodded. "Cub, you know that's not your strong suit. Stick with your bow and dagger."

Cressa smiled. That was how she knew her mother wasn't mad. "Yes, mama."

Ned chuckled at the two ladies. "Can I ask who you were sparring with?" he asked.

"Oh, um, Jon." Cressa picked at her nails while looking at Ned. She didn't know how he'd react to her sparring with his bastard son, or her sparring in general, for that matter. Did she really think he would severely disapprove of a woman wielding a weapon? No. He seemed to highly respect her mother who was incredibly skilled in many weapons. Did she perhaps think that he wouldn't want her anywhere near his son for doing so? A little. She had grown to like Winterfell in the day they had been there. She'd hate to cut their stay so short.

And if she ended up wanting to stay, Robb wasn't a bad part of that deal. In fact, he probably would've been one of the better parts. The bad parts would be having even more responsibilities than she had on Bear Island. But to be fair, she also had more hunting opportunities.

Ned quirked an eyebrow at her answer. "Really? Jon?" Cressa nodded again. "Jon agreed to that?"

Cressa didn't quite know why Lord Stark phrased it that way, but she didn't openly question it and she answered him honestly. "It wasn't so much that he agreed, my lord."

It didn't take a mind reader to understand her meaning. Ned let out a belly laugh and patted her on the shoulder. "Just like your mother. Get cleaned up. Supper will be ready soon."

Cressa bowed her head with a small smile. "Yes, my lord."

"Come along, cub," Maege said, resting her hand on Cressa's shoulder and guiding her away towards Cressa's room. They left the Lord of Winterfell in the hall, who shook his head lightly at the young Mormont. The more he saw of her, the more he thought of how well she would get along with his children. Robb would have a handful for a wife, but anyone who got along with Jon would be a perfect addition to House Stark.

* * *

That night, Cressa slipped into a clean brown and green dress. The inside was laced with fur to keep warm which seemed unnecessary considering the heated walls and floors of the castle, but it comforted her. The fur was from an animal her mother had killed. Each Mormont girl received one as a gift on their namedays. She preferred to curl up in it and sleep rather than walk down the steps to supper, but she had to. She had to face the fact that her future was changing. Changing into something she didn't know was good or bad.

As Cressa brushed through her drying hair, someone knocked on her door. Setting down the brush, she stood and walked over to the large wooden door and opened it, revealing Robb. As ruggedly handsome as usual, Cressa smiled at him and he smiled in return. "Time for supper?" Cressa asked.

"Perhaps I just wanted to say 'hello?'" he cheekily asked. Then he held out his arm. "I'm here to escort you."

Lacing her arm through his, she replied, "Thank you." As Cressa left the room, the door closed behind her, and the two walked down the hallway.

"It is my honor."

While Cressa could tell Robb genuinely meant it, she had to tease him. "I'm sure you're required to say that."

His deep laugh echoed throughout the stone corridor as they came upon the staircase. "Even if I am, it doesn't make it any less true."

"So, what can I expect from your siblings?" she asked as their steps echoed through the hall.

Robb chuckled, glancing at her but turning forward again. "You don't have to worry about them much. Rickon's too small to pay you much mind. Bran loves asking questions, but he has a good heart. Sansa might not pay you much mind either unless she's talking about your dress, which you look beautiful in, by the way." Cressa rolled her eyes with a grin and he laughed again. "Arya's a little wild and might avoid you for a while before realizing you're not like Sansa. And then Jon's pretty much always quiet and keeps to himself, so don't be offended if he doesn't talk to you. It's hard to get him to open up."

"Oh, tell me about it. He knocked me on my ass before I could get him to actually smile."

Robb's steps faltered and he looked at the lady on his arm. "I beg your pardon?"

Cressa looked up at him and giggled. "We were sparring."

"Oh. . . he agreed to that?"

Cressa didn't understand what was so strange about the idea of Jon agreeing to spar with her, even though he didn't actually agree to it anyway. "He didn't, actually. I attacked him with a training sword."

"That makes more sense. Although, I am surprised he didn't let you win."

"I'm glad he didn't. I know I'm not very good. Swords are too long for my taste. I'd rather be up close with a dagger or at a distance with my bow."

They took a few more steps before Robb responded. "Can I be honest?"

"I thought you've been honest?" she asked cheekily. "Of course, Robb."

"I've never discussed weaponry with a lady except for telling my septa that I'd rather be sword fighting than listening to her stories. I find it a little strange to hear."

She smirked up at him. "There are very few things my sisters and I talk about other than our weapons. You might just have to get used to it."

"I plan on it."

* * *

After supper, Maege laced her fingers through her daughter's hair as they sat on Cressa's bed. "How are you liking Winterfell, little cub?" Maege asked her daughter.

"It-it's alright." Cressa couldn't help but think about the young Lord Stark.

"You're a filthy little liar, you know?" Maege pointed out. Cressa was about to argue with her mother, but Maege continued. "No, you like it here. I know you do. I can see it in your eyes."

"Mama--"

Lady Mormont cut her off before she could finish her thought. "You may think I am punishing you, my cub, but I swear to you I am not." Maege dropped her fingers from Cressa's hair.

Cressa turned her head to look at her mother with wide, pleading eyes. "Then why are you forcing me to marry? Lyra is the same age as him, marry her off. And she actually wants to marry and have children."

"Cub--"

It was Cressa's turn to cut her off. "No, mother, answer my question." Her eyes glowed with the hidden fire within, her tone growing harsher. "I don't want to settle down or marry, and you know that. You have always encouraged it in me, so why the sudden change of heart?"

Maege sighed as her shoulders slouched. "You'll be more free in Winterfell married to a Stark than you would be stuck on Bear Island unwed."

Cressa didn't quite understand her mother's logic. Furrowing her eyebrows, she said, "I love Bear Island. It's my home."

Lady Mormont held her daughter's hand between hers as she looked into Cressa's eyes. "You've always been a free-spirit, my cub. On the mainland, you can travel. You can spend as much time as you want in the forest. You can hunt freely. You can fall in love. Bear Island is too small for your whims. Any longer there and you'll realize that."

Cressa shook her head. "Why can't you just send me here as a ward or something? Why do I have to marry?"

Maege moved one of her hands to Cressa's cheek. "If you marry the Lord of Winterfell, you can do nearly whatever you please, and I won't have to worry about you dying in a ditch all alone."

Cressa's breath faltered as she finally understood. Her mother was afraid for her well-being. She wasn't consolidating power. She wasn't getting rid of her. She was trying to protect her. "Moth--," Cressa's voice cracked. "Mama, I'm sorry." Cressa wrapped her arms around her mother's torso, burrowing her head into the elder Mormont's chest.

Lady Mormont held her daughter in her arms, holding her tight and resting a cheek on Cressa's crown. "It's alright, my cub. I've always done my best to do right by my girls. I know I don't always explain my actions, but I do hope you trust them."

"I do, mama bear."

"Promise me you'll take this seriously."

"I promise."

* * *

Over the following two weeks, Cressa got to know Robb, Jon, and Bran. Robb would go with her riding. Jon would spar with her. Bran enjoyed hearing her stories. Sansa mostly spent time with other ladies in the castle or her septa, Rickon rarely left Maester Luwin or Catelyn's sides, and Arya ran amock about the castle getting into trouble.

On one Wednesday morning, Cressa stood in the training yard with her bow, shooting arrows at the target in front of her. As she notched another arrow and aimed, her attention was drawn away by movement behind her. Cressa relaxed her arms and lowered the bow. Turning around, she spotted the younger Stark girl weaving through gear and weaponry.

Cressa raised an eyebrow and asked, "What are you doing, little wolf?"

Perking up and eyes wide, Arya hadn't expected to be talked to. Most of the staff didn't because they were used to seeing her running around doing things she wasn't supposed to do. She decided to be honest with the outsider. "I'm hiding from Septa Mordane." Arya eyed the bow in the girl's hand. "Can I shoot with you?"

The corners of Cressa's mouth twitched up. "Be my guest."

Arya grabbed a bow and quiver and stood by Cressa in front of the next target. Other than a few compliments and corrections from Cressa, the two were silent as they shot arrows and collected them for over fifteen minutes until they decided to take a break.

The two sat on the wooden fencing behind them. Cressa straightened the fletching on her arrows while Arya swung her legs idly.

"I think you'd get along well with my sister Lyanna," Cressa said, breaking the silence.

"Why?" Arya asked indignantly, her facial features pinching together and turning towards the Mormont. "I doubt it. "

Slipping her current arrow back into her quiver hanging on her knee, Cressa pulled out another arrow to fix and began listing shared traits she had noticed. "You're about the same age. You mostly keep to yourselves. You both have this fire in you."

"I don't get along with anyone except Jon," Arya quickly pointed out.

Cressa looked at the young girl from the corner of her eye as her smile grew in amusement. "If you grew up on Bear Island, you'd have been given a wooden sword the moment you could hold one if you wanted it. Lyanna prefers an axe though."

Arya picked up her head and straightened her back. "Girls are allowed to learn how to fight?" she asked.

Nodding, Cressa replied, "Aye. Haven't you seen Jon and I sparring?"

Arya shrugged. "I thought you were just weird."

A light chuckle left Cressa and she leaned closer, almost conspiratorially. "Then all my sisters are weird, too."

"What about sewing?" Arya asked, tilting her head. "If you're fighting, you don't have to learn that right?" She seriously hated sewing.

"Of course we do." Arya grimaced, no longer entranced by the idea of Bear Island. Cressa simply laughed more and nudged the girl playfully. "Oh, little wolf, sewing isn't all bad. Mama always had us do our sewing lessons before our fighting lessons, and it took a while before we realized why." Arya looked at her expectantly. Cressa set aside the arrow she was working on. "It teaches patience. You don't have to be good, but you have to be patient when fighting. You have to be patient in life. It also teaches you to see ahead, to have a plan." Cressa paused to let a teasing grin spread. "Also, who else will fix your clothes when they get all torn and cut?"

It only took a few seconds for Arya to realize where Cressa was going with her explanation. "You're going to make me go back, huh?"

"Yes," Cressa answered. She hadn't figured Arya would realize so quickly. "I won't hide you from your mother or your septa forever, and you should return willingly."

Arya sighed. "It's so boring."

"I know, but someday you'll appreciate it. I hated it, too."

Arya paused at her words and took them in. "Alright, I'll go."

Cressa watched the small girl hop down from the fence and walk away, dragging her feet but still going. Cressa shook her head, amused at her actions but unsurprised. Arya reminded her a lot of herself, not just Lyanna. The desire to simply run wild and free mixed with the fire burning inside. As Cressa thought over her interaction with the young Stark, she was interrupted from her thoughts yet again.

"Arya likes you," a voice said from behind her.

Cressa turned to see Robb walking closer and then leaning on the fence next to her. "Really? How could you tell?" she wondered, a small smile spreading. For some reason, she felt happy to see him.

"She listened to you. I'm curious as to why. She doesn't listen to anyone except me, Jon, and father. And even then, it's few and far between."

"Perhaps she simply needed someone to understand her. I know I did."

His eyebrows furrowed. The more he talked to Cressa Mormont, the more intrigued he became. "You did?" he wondered.

Cressa's smile widened at his curiosity. "I did. I was a lot like Arya at her age," she explained. "I grew out of some of it, as I'm sure you can tell. But I was just as rebellious until my cousin gave me my first bow and started teaching me how to shoot. He said I first needed to learn patience if I ever wanted him to teach me how to wield a sword."

"So, I guess you never learned patience." 

She shoved his shoulder which simply made him laugh. "I'm not that bad."

Robb shook his head, still grinning. "I've seen you spar with Jon. If that's not bad, I don't know what is."

"Remind me to lose you in the forest the next time we go riding."

* * *

Lady Maege Mormont pulled her daughter aside weeks later after seeing Cressa bonding with each of the Stark children. Cressa had spent much of her days riding or walking around the castle with Robb, sparring with Jon in the training yard, telling stories to Bran, and shooting arrows with Arya when Lady Stark and Septa Mordane weren't around.

"I see you're fitting in well," Maege said as she walked arm in arm with Cressa down the hall.

Cressa had seen the conversation coming from miles away. She knew she would have to give an answer. "Yes, you were right," Cressa replied quietly, not particularly wanting to admit it. "I do like it here. It's not Bear Island, but I can learn to call it my home."

"So, you'll accept Robb's hand in marriage, my cub?" Excitement tinged Maege's voice.

The young bear's mind flitted to her thoughts of the young wolf. Robb Stark was handsome, kind, strong, and honorable. There were many things Cressa found herself liking about him. She could see herself falling in love with him.

"Yes, mama. I'll marry Robb Stark."

* * *

All of the North took the news of Robb Stark and Cressa Mormont's engagement well. Invitations were sent out shortly after planning had begun. Many of the Lords of the North couldn't quite believe Lady Mormont had successfully convinced someone, especially Lord Stark, to accept a marriage between their son and Cressa Mormont considering how many times she had convinced others not to accept her hand.

Cressa's sisters traveled from Bear Island to attend the ceremony as well. They were just as shocked to find Cressa had willingly said yes, that is until they saw what an incredible beauty Winterfell was and how handsome Robb Stark was.

On the night of their wedding, Maege led her daughter to the Godswood. Family members lined either side of the lantern-lit path. Cressa, with a beautiful white dress lined with fox fur and a cloak bearing the Mormont sigil, glided easily towards the tree wear Robb and Ned stood. Cressa and Maege stopped in front of the two Starks.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Ned began with a small smile. He couldn't believe his eldest son was already of marrying age. He remembered clearly the day he married Cat.

"Cressa, of the House Mormont, comes here to be wed," Maege announced for all in the grove to hear. "A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

Robb took a step forward. "Robb, of the House Stark, heir to Winterfell. Who gives her?"

"Maege, of the House Mormont."

Ned looked to the young woman. "Lady Cressa, will you take this man?" he asked.

Cressa breathed in deeply, her eyes meeting Robb's. "I take his man."

The two smiled at each other before moving on to the next part of the ceremony. Cressa and Robb joined hands and knelt before the heart tree so the Old Gods could witness their union. The wedding party spent a moment in a silent prayer to bless the new couple. The two then rose and Robb stripped Cressa of her cloak with the bear sigil, handed it to her mother, grabbed a new cloak with the Stark direwolf sigil from Maester Luwin who stood nearby, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Cressa Mormont was then Cressa Stark, wife of Robb Stark.

* * *

Hours after the feast, Cressa and Robb laid in Robb's chambers, or rather their chambers. They were exhausted and ready to sleep but couldn't quite reach that point, so they laid together under the covers, Robb staring up at the ceiling with Cressa laying on her stomach next to him.

"What changed?" he asked quietly.

Cressa shifted her gaze from the wall to Robb's beautiful blue eyes. She could get lost in the sea forever. "What do you mean?"

"When we first met, you so obviously didn't want to marry me." Cressa moved to defend her initial thoughts, but he simply chuckled and shook his head before she could. "It's alright, I wasn't exactly thrilled at the time either. But now, you're lying in my bed as nude as you were the day you came into this world. What changed?"

She arched an eyebrow. "I can say the same about you." Her eyes shifted downward, looking pointedly at his own nakedness.

A small laugh left his lips. "Oi, just answer my question, please."

Cressa shifted underneath the warm blankets and nestled her head comfortably on the pillow. "Why do you wanna know?" she asked.

"Because your unending honesty is one of the things I like about you. Come on, out with it."

"I talked to my mother."

That wasn't what he had expected to hear. "Oh?"

"She knew something I didn't."

"Shocking."

"Hey!" Cressa gently hit his chest. "If you're going to be like that, I won't tell you." She started to turn over and look away from him.

Robb quickly grabbed her arm with a tender grip, his amused smile turning into something more genuine and heartfelt. "No, no, please. I'll be quiet."

Cressa looked at her new husband once again. "She told me why she wanted me to marry you," she explained, her fingers moving up his arm. "She had always encouraged my desire to ride through the forest whenever I wanted, to hunt, to fight, whatever, and she realized that if I came to Winterfell, I'd be able to do that without fail. She told me that if I married you, she wouldn't have to worry about me. So I stopped trying to fight enjoying my time here and embraced it."

"Then Lady Mormont is the one I have to thank for a beautiful woman in my bed."

Cressa scoffed and giggled. "If you say that to her, she'll skin you alive like she's a Bolton."

A serious, somber expression moved across his expression. "Does it hurt?" he wondered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Being skinned alive? Obviously."

While Robb let himself laugh a little, he quickly moved on. "That's not what I meant." He glanced downward.

She immediately understood his meaning. "A little, but I've had worse."

"I don't doubt that. I'm sorry that it-"

Cressa cut him off. "It's supposed to hurt a little."

He still tried again. "I'm still sorry that I was the-"

"It's not your fault."

"Well, technically-"

"Shut up."

Robb's easy-going smile graced his features as he looked at his wife. "Yes, my lady."


End file.
